


Blindfold

by Thistlerose



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-06
Updated: 2011-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-15 11:25:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As long as he's breathing, he can hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blindfold

When they slide open the door to his cell, George is ready. He throws himself at them, fights them with everything he’s got, which, at this point, is pure adrenalin. They beat him into submission - an inevitability, given their numbers and brute strength - bind his wrists behind his back, and tie a blindfold over his eyes.

He feels the cold nozzle of a rifle poke sharply at his back. Again. His captors don’t speak, but the message is clear: _march._

George obeys because there’s nothing left for him to do right now, except hope. Between here and the wall where he’ll be gunned down - where the rest of his away team was gunned down, while he was forced to listen from his cell - something might come to him. An idea. His captors might slip up. Unlikely at this point, but--

As long as he’s breathing, he can _hope_.

Beneath his feet, flat stones give way to dry dirt. He feels sun and wind on his face. As he gulps air into his lungs, a bead of sweat slides down the side of his face, causing the cuts and bruises there to sting. The pain is muted. Everything is muted except for what feels like a ball of lead in the pit of his stomach.

 _Think, damn it._

If only he could _see_ \--

He hears phaser fire and flinches instinctively. A phaser beam sizzles the air beside him, and there’s a cry and a dull thud as his captors fall.

 _Get down,_ George tells himself. _Get low._ But his body won’t obey him. His knees begin to fold, but it isn’t his doing.

Someone catches him just before he hits the dirt. Someone with slender arms and soft hair that smells faintly of lavender clasps him to her and jerks the blindfold from his eyes. Bright sunlight strikes his eyes, and he has to squint. Over Winona’s shoulder, he can just make out the tall, broad figure of Captain Robau, phaser rifle in hand. He’s shouting orders, but all George can hear above the roar of blood in his ears is Winona whispering, “Hey, baby. I’ve got you.”

1/23/2011


End file.
